The Lion of Erebor
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: Post Five Armies AU. More based on book canon than movie, but fits in both. A new enemy has risen and his hatred knows no bounds. The House of Durin, The Men of the Lake, and The Men of Dale are all under threat. Alliances will be made and broken, heroes will rise, and one young Durin will find there is far more to life than swordplay and intrigue. Fili/OC. No slash. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

Fíli held up a hand to halt his troop as the Men did the same. There were voices in the trees.

Hopefully it was their quarry. These outlaws couldn't go unpunished any longer; they hadn't just disrupted the normal trade routes, they had nearly destroyed them with their raids.

Whispers of other things taken in those raids had only doubled the desire to see them caught. These outlaws had taken young women from the caravans, as well. What had become of them after, no one knew; but at the least it meant they were slavers, at worst they were the worst sort of marauders.

The voices carried clearly across the space and Fíli saw red. He signaled the others to move forward into position and then called the attack.

The outlaws were surprised, but fought back with surprising strength and discipline. Then it was over and they were in the middle of the hunters, on their knees and some looking as if they'd beg for their lives.

Fíli was disgusted to see some Dwarves with these murderers and he didn't bother to hide his scorn. "Hold them here," he said finally after regarding them for a long moment. "Barnir, had they captives?"

"A couple, but in no condition to help," the Man responded quietly but with heat. "There's another one back there, in the tent. She's scared and we can't get near her."

Fíli simply nodded and went to the tent. It was no surprise, then, when he saw the girl holding off the Men with a simple dagger. She was wild with it, not really a threat, simply swinging it in front of her at all angles whenever someone got too close.

He motioned the Men back a short way and crouched down a bit to be on eye level with her. "Easy, lass," he said softly as he held out a hand. He was still out of her reach, though, and that was the way he wanted it for now. She was terrified and he didn't want to make it any worse. "Easy. We won't hurt you." He was hoping to reach her but she didn't seem to see him at all. She was looking right at him but the blade didn't waver from where she held it a little left of center.

"Stay away!" she cried angrily. "It's just another trick, just another way to get near enough to hurt me. And you won't do it again without getting hurt yourself."

"We won't hurt you." He crept just a little closer. Something was off, he could feel it. She was terrified, and she was armed. Bad combination in close quarters; but she didn't seem to know where she was striking, merely lashing out blindly.

Blind.

It hit him and he moved forward more, easily evading her swing, and took the dagger from her quickly before grabbing her wrists to hold her still. "Easy! We're not going to hurt you!" But she was determined and fighting like a wild animal. And when she bit him he snarled and gave up the pretense, wrapping his arms around her and holding her still that way. How she'd managed to get through his tunic with her teeth he wasn't sure but he wasn't going to give her a chance to do it again. It hurt. "You're safe, now. You're safe. Calm down!"

She continued to struggle against his hold, cursing violently and striking out whenever she could get a hand or foot free, and Fíli simply held on. He murmured reassurances all the while, soft words he had spoken to comfort his brother on nights he'd wakened screaming and fighting, soft lullabies he remembered his mother using to calm him, and finally she relaxed a bit.

"You're safe," he repeated as she sobbed once, the sound full of despair. "You're safe." He was able then to release her and move back a bit to tip her face up. "There we go. Let's get you out of here."

She shook her head. "Chained," she said simply as she twitched her foot once more. It rattled and Fíli went to look at it, checking the manacle closely and then kneeling again, drawing his own knife and working the lock with it.

"Child's play," he said happily as it clicked open. "All right, then, up you come." He took her hand gently in his own and drew her to her feet, then scowled at the state of her dress. She was covered, but barely, and with a growl he wrapped his own coat around her.

When he finally got her outside, the Men's captain was waiting for him. "What do we do with them?" he asked quietly.

"Take the Dwarves to Thorin," Fíli ordered evenly. "The rest I leave in your hands. Right now, I'd like to get this young lady to a healer." He took her to his pony, a bit surprised by her subdued demeanor now. She'd seemed so fiery when surrounded by what she thought were enemies. "Can you see at all?" he asked her softly as he lifted her aboard the sturdy beast.

"Light and dark," she replied, her voice resigned. "They rubbed my face in the embers when I fought them."

He led the pony out, watching to see she didn't fall. She was too tall for the poor beast, really, but not as tall as some. He was furious over what had been done to her; and over what had still been planned. Some of the Men had confessed they were going to take her to the slave markets. "Just remember you're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you again."

Dale was bustling when they arrived and they made their careful way toward the healing house. It was somewhere, unfortunately, that Fíli was quite familiar with from past experience so he found it easily. He watched around him, of course, still caught up in the rebuilding that was occurring, many of his race helping to clear rubble as well as beginning to work with the stone.

But it was his charge who held his gaze more often. She was quiet, too quiet, as though she still feared something. Her face was drawn and pale and suddenly he wondered if she were more seriously hurt than he'd thought. A thought occurred to him and he almost snarled before stifling it. He'd not frighten her further.

At least in this place, a Dwarf and a human together wouldn't be remarked. Not so close to the Lonely Mountain, to Erebor. Since reclaiming it from the dragon, many, many Dwarves had returned home and for the most part, relations between the two kingdoms had been friendly. And now he was counting on that friendship. Some of his own had been in that band and the thought still plagued him.

He lifted her down and helped her inside, calling for a healer to tend her and somehow not surprised when one of the masters came to them. Then he waited while she was taken care of. He needed a full tally of her injuries so he could report to Bard, who led here, and to his own king, Thorin Oakenshield, his uncle and King Under the Mountain.

A servant offered him food and drink, and for once, he didn't avail himself of the hospitality. He merely waited until a flurry of activity warned him and he rose, greeting the new arrival with the respect he was due as well as the comfort of a good friend. "Bard, good, I meant to see you as soon as she'd been tended," he offered easily.

"I've seen them into the prison," Bard replied evenly as he kept walking. Fíli fell in step with him. "How bad was it?"

"Two of their captives were beyond help," Fíli said simply as they paused outside her door. "This one – I don't even know her name. But she's a fighter." A small smile tugged at him. "She was determined that they wouldn't hurt her more." He rubbed at the still aching bite.

The master came out of the room with a sigh and made his respects to Bard. "She is badly hurt but she will live," he said tiredly. "The problem will be keeping her abed until she does so. She is already demanding to leave." He shook his head. "She is strong; but I do not know if she will see again. I have already given her the herbs to prevent a child from their unspeakable treatment of her. The rest, bruises, a few cracked ribs, those will heal in time. Her eyes I don't know."

Bard thanked him and they both entered the little room. Again Fíli was struck by the change in her. She had the same expression as the rabbits he'd seen snared. This was a far cry from the hellcat she had been in that tent.

Bard's sudden intake of breath should have warned him, as should his soft exhalation of her name. "Nialla." Still, he wondered.

Her voice shook slightly as she realized exactly who had come to see her. "Hello, Father."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

Fíli had excused himself quickly. There was much more to this than met the eye, and family troubles were private. He'd not intrude.

However, it was far too late in the day for him to start back to the mountain, near as it was. There was too much danger of attack for him to travel alone (or so Thorin had constantly tried to impress on him) and his troops had already returned. Therefor, he'd have to stay in Dale at least overnight. It indulged his uncle as well as giving him a chance to make some discreet inquiries.

Somewhere in this place, there had to be a spy for the slavers. They had entirely too much knowledge of the trade routes, and of which caravans would have the most goods – and the most women. Every caravan taken had at least one female traveling with them, and they had been stolen as well as the goods. It was intolerable.

He found nothing.

It put him in a foul mood, certainly. He wanted to break something. Instead, he sat down at one of the inns with a pint and a bad attitude.

Part of it was being away from his beloved brother Kíli. The pair were inseparable, most days. Oh, they got along all right when one was away, but it never lasted long and they always returned to each other. This was the longest they had been apart since – well – he couldn't remember. That wasn't good.

He sighed heavily and continued to drink. He didn't, however, drink enough to put him in his cups. There was too much to think about. Such as why, if the slavers had taken Bard's daughter, they hadn't tried to ransom her back. She would be worth a pretty penny to her father, he was certain.

Thoughts of her filled his mind. She had fire, she had spirit. And he was attracted to that fire.

That was a bad thought to have. She was human, and she was a King's daughter. She could never be a casual dalliance and he didn't want anything more. And yet, thoughts of her continued to plague him, even as he went up the steps to the room he'd secured for the night.

A rush of air at his back warned him and he spun, barely avoiding the long knife that had meant to kill. One hand found his own dagger, the other quickly dousing the lamp that had allowed the assassin to find him so easily. His own sight in the dark would be more than a match for anything other than another Dwarf.

The knife had come downward at him, so it was probably a Man who had attacked him. The darkness shrouded the room and he heard labored breathing nearby. He hadn't touched the assassin yet, so it had to be fear causing the rapid breath. "You won't kill me," he snarled. "Drop your knife and I'll spare your life."

"Even if you would, Bard wouldn't," came the angry response. Fíli placed the speaker on his left, a little behind him. The bastard was circling. "You have to die."

"Why?" Fíli didn't turn but he hefted his knife. A spin right now would find its mark – but he needed information first.

"Because you took the girl back. Dario wanted her for the markets. She'd have brought a nice price, even blinded like she was." The voice was moving again and Fíli marked it carefully. "He wants you dead and he's willing to pay for it."

Fíli growled low in his throat. He wished there was enough space in here for his swords; but of course there wasn't. Not in a bedroom. So he tightened his grip slightly on his knife, and kept careful note of where the Man was. "There's more to this than just a lost slave," he remarked idly, trying to sound indifferent to the threat. "What is she to this Dario, truly?"

"A slave. That's all." Another feint that Fíli evaded easily and stepped away again.

"She's the King's daughter," Fíli taunted him. "Surely she'd be worth more as a ransom than as a slave."

"Dario said no. Said he'd get more for her as a slave. And that it'd hurt Bard more." A sudden silence fell over the Man as he realized he'd given away far too much and Fíli moved quickly, disarming him, knocking him to the floor and holding him there.

"So it was all about hurting your King." Fíli bared his teeth but he knew the Man wouldn't see them in the darkness. "We're going to go talk to Bard, then. Let's see what he thinks of your Dario's plan."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

–

Part Three

It was a problem for the Men, Fíli told himself sternly. He had no place in it. It didn't matter that the slavers had tried to kill him, too. He would have been collateral damage. It was all meant as a strike at Bard, and as such, Bard's responsibility. Fíli would bow out gracefully and return to Erebor, to find out what Thorin had done with the Dwarven conspirators.

But not before he had seen Nialla again.

He had to see if she had regained that spark, the fire that drew him like a moth to a flame.

He was ushered into her room and had to duck as a piece of crockery flew at his head. Yes, she'd regained her spirit. What had he done to draw her ire?

"I am not going to stay here any longer!" she railed. "Oh." Her voice went still and soft when she realized who she was throwing things at. "Sorry. I meant that for the healers."

"I'm sure." He drew near and noticed that her eyes followed his movements. "You're better." He settled into a chair at the foot of her bed and watched her.

"I should say thank you," Nialla said bluntly. "I was simply awful to you and you were just trying to help."

"It's understandable." Now that he was here, he couldn't think what to say to her. If she'd been anyone else, he'd have been able to flirt and flatter, but she was a King's daughter and as such, completely out of reach for what he wanted, which at this point was a quick tumble. Still, she was attractive to him for that fire he saw in her. "But you need to learn how to fight. Biting me – that wasn't at all nice."

"Nice? You wanted me to be NICE?" she began angrily. "For all I knew, you were one of them, come to either beat me again or worse. I wasn't about to be NICE."

He grabbed at his temper with both hands. She'd been through an ordeal, he reminded himself firmly. She was understandably distraught. "At least you could have stopped kicking when I tried to soothe you!" he tried again, his voice deceptively even. "I've bruises on my bruises."

"Serves you right," she growled back. "You could have talked to me BEFORE you grabbed me. I panicked."

"I DID talk to you!" he snarled back. This wasn't going well at all. That spark, that spirit, was going to be difficult at best for anyone to try to tame and he was suddenly certain he didn't want to try. "You weren't listening!"

"You arrogant, insufferable – you – you Dwarf!" she snapped. "You came SWAGGERING in here and expect me to swoon at your feet, I suppose, for saving the day. Well you can think again!"

"And you are nothing more than a spoiled brat who is angry because she's been denied her way." Fíli's voice had gone dangerously soft. "I came to say goodbye, since I was leaving for home. For some reason, I felt you might care." He rose and gave her a proper bow. "I'm sure we won't meet again." Not if he could help it.

"I'm sorry." She sounded truly contrite and he hesitated in the doorway. "Fíli... thank you. And I do mean that."

She knew his name. The way she said it, the way it fell from her lips, Mahal, he was in trouble. In one moment, with one word, he'd gone from anger to regret. And possibly something else he didn't WANT to identify, not yet. Fire, she was fire, that was all he could think.

He turned to face her and she looked absolutely wretched. He sighed before dropping back into the chair. "I'm sorry, too." He had to take that look from her face. "Why don't you tell me how you regained your sight?" Conversation, that was it. Maybe it would soothe both of their tempers. Unlikely, but he would at least try.

"Oh." She had the grace to look embarrassed. "The, um, the embers. They burned my face but not my eyes. All there was wrong with them was some ash stuck under the lids, the healers say. No lasting damage. Apparently I'll be completely recovered in a few days."

"Good." Ashes. Her eyes were like ash, grey and yet clear, and oh, MAHAL, they drew him. He needed to leave, and now. Before he did something they would both regret. She wasn't for a casual dalliance, he reminded himself firmly. And if he touched her, Bard would have his head and Thorin would kill what was left. No, he needed to go. NOW. "Nialla... I really do have to return home."

"Will I see you again?" Her voice was soft, but the words were genuine. She wanted him to come back. The thought beat in time with his heartbeat. She wanted him to come back. And he didn't dare, not feeling like this.

"I'm sure of it." He gave her a smile before turning to go. But he didn't make it to the doorway before he felt her hand on his arm and stopped still, not daring to turn and look at her again. She'd actually gotten out of bed to try and keep him from leaving. He'd seen her hurts, and while they weren't life threatening, they had to be painful. There was strength in that slight frame, strength as well as fire, and she was TOUCHING him.

She turned his face back without much resistance and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she said simply.

He raised his fingers to her face, his thumb lightly stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "You're welcome," he said softly. Then he forced himself to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

–

Part Four

It was a good thing his pony knew the way home, Fíli thought idly as he realized the Gates were in sight. He'd not been paying much attention. Too caught up in his thoughts, in the fact that not only had she touched him, she had KISSED him. And her skin had been so soft under his fingers...

He needed to control himself. She wasn't for him, and that was simple fact. She was human. She was a King's daughter. And she most certainly was NOT for a quick tumble in the hay, so to speak. As much as he'd enjoy it, and he'd see that she did too.

He groaned in disgust. He had to get her out of his thoughts and she wasn't leaving.

Kíli's appearance at the gate at least distracted him for a moment. "Welcome home, brother," he said happily as he clapped Fíli on the back. "I hear you had some adventure. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"I have to talk to uncle first, Kíli," he answered with a smile of his own. Yes, he needed to report and maybe that would help take his mind off that vixen he'd left in Dale. "Then we'll talk." Maybe if he told Kíli about her, it would help. Then again... probably not. It would only put her more firmly in his mind and that he did. Not. Want.

"I'll walk you down, then." Kíli fell in step beside him and they went to the Council Chamber. Thorin wasn't his grandfather; he didn't expect everyone to come to him in the Throne Room, although it did have its uses.

The guards posted at the doorway gave him pause but he'd say nothing. It wasn't normal. They passed him through and he moved to stand against the back wall, and the nod Thorin gave him was the only acknowledgment that he was even present.

Strange, that. Although what he was hearing in this meeting, not surprising. Rumors of unrest, concern over the slavers. Discussion of the prisoners he had sent back. Decisions of what to do with them.

For the moment, they would be held. Maybe they could provide a little more information. Then one of the councilors motioned for attention and Balin frowned. Which of course made Thorin scowl.

"Surely sending your heir on this errand wasn't the wisest course of action," Torli said evenly. "If he were to be lost..."

"I have confidence that my nephew can protect himself," Thorin replied dryly. "Fíli, what news from Dale?"

"Not the best." Fíli seated himself at the table and regarded the others steadily. "The slavers seem to have a specific interest in causing Bard pain. The captive we rescued was his daughter." He waited for some of the murmurs to die down. "That's not really our concern. What we should be worrying about is finding their leader. He slipped through our fingers." Even to himself, he sounded surly. That they hadn't captured this Dario more than annoyed him.

"If these raids are designed to harm the human King, why should we bother?"

Thorin sat forward, the vicious scar running down his face suddenly thrown into sharp relief, and Fíli sat back slightly. This was not going to be amusing. Thorin was furious, though he made no outward sign. "Because these humans are our allies," he said simply, though his words were clipped and full of heat. "Because if not for King Bard, Smaug would still hold these Halls. Because if not for Bard and his Men, the Orcs and Goblins would have taken our home from us once more." He wouldn't mention Thranduil's help during that battle. It hadn't been the Elven king that had stood against Azog at the last, defending the fallen Durín while Men got him to the healers. It hadn't been the Elven king who had provided the healers that had saved Thorin's life. And it hadn't been the Elves who had traded with the Dwarves of Erebor when they needed clothing and foodstuffs they couldn't produce themselves even after beginning to rebuild.

If it hadn't been for Bard, Thorin would be dead.

"My apologies, Majesty," Torli returned evenly. "I meant no insult. Of course we must protect our allies." But Fíli could clearly hear the insincerity in the words and if he could, he KNEW Thorin did.

"Then I will hear no more objections." Thorin dismissed them and waited until they were gone before turning to Balin and Fíli. "Let's hear the rest of it, lad," he said to Fíli.

"A human named Dario seems to lead these slavers," Fíli said quietly. He knew Balin had remained as advisor to BOTH him and Thorin; as the heir, he would need to deal with these things when Thorin was gone and it was a learning experience. And Balin was the best sort of advisor; he would let one talk and think until the best decision was reached. "The one who came after me in Dale let it slip. And he was very clear that Nialla was taken, not for ransom, but as a slave. Because it would hurt Bard."

"You were attacked in Dale?" Thorin was concerned but not overly so. Fíli was obviously all right and Thorin was well aware that he could take care of himself. "And how did Bard take THAT?"

"About as well as could be expected," Fíli replied with a shake of his head. "He wasn't pleased. But the point is, this isn't about stealing goods, or women. Not any more. Now it's a personal attack on him. And until Dario is found, he'll continue to attack Bard in any way he can. His family, his friends. His people. His allies. No one will be safe."

"If we withdraw our people back to the mountain, they would be safe at least," Thorin began slowly. Balin gave him a sharp glance and then forced his face to calm.

"No." Fíli's response was sharp and quick. "That would withdraw our support as well and Bard needs that now. We owe it to him if for no other reason than you're alive." He shook his head. "We can't abandon him. We should put more of our troops along the trade routes, to protect the caravans, and maybe some in the city itself. If he will accept our help, that is."

"A sound plan." Thorin nodded acceptance. His nephew had learned well. Never abandon an ally. And NEVER a friend. "Very well. Take a troop, offer them to Bard as protection for the caravans. Take Dwalin and have him watch over Bard, since we do not know which Men we can and cannot trust." He gave a small, rueful smile. "And send Nori to see what he might discover. He is more than suited for subtle investigation." The thief might be able to find what they had not – the identity and location of their quarry. Dario might not be a true name; and they had no idea where to begin looking.

"No, Dwalin stays with you." Fíli wasn't going to compromise. "There's no guarantee Dario won't come here looking for victims, either. And I won't leave you unprotected." He got up and headed for the door. "I'll take Kíli with me, too. He could be useful."

"It would certainly make things quieter here." Thorin gave him a rare true smile. "Take your brother and go to Dale. Send word when you can." Suddenly he gave Fíli a stern glare. "But keep the mischief managed within bounds, please."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

–

Part Five

"All right, brother, everything you needed to do is being done, so tell me about what happened." Kíli was demanding as only a beloved younger brother could be. "I heard some of it from the troops you sent back. Did you really let her BITE you?"

"I didn't LET her do anything, Kíli!" Fíli growled back. This was not a good idea. He didn't need to be thinking about her. "She was alone, frightened, mostly blind. She didn't know she could trust us. So she fought dirty." He shrugged. "It's not the first time I've been bitten." No, but it was usually more fun. He tried to rein in his wayward thoughts as well as direct his mount.

Kíli simply stayed beside him. He knew his brother had a bit of a reputation; he had his own, really. Neither of them had lacked for companionship when they wanted it, especially after the quest. And he knew how single-minded Fíli could get when he set his sights on a lass. But this seemed a bit different and he wanted to know why.

Long moments passed in silence and finally Fíli sighed heavily. "What do you really want to know, Kíli?" he asked with long-suffering patience.

"Is she pretty?" Good, he was getting Fee to open up. He had felt his brother's need to talk since Fíli had returned to Erebor and he hadn't been able to get him to say more than two words about it. He knew it was only a matter of time and some subtle (and not so subtle) pressure before the older one cracked and started talking.

Fíli nodded. "For a human, I suppose," he mused out loud. "She has this dark hair, not black, not exactly, but dark. Her face isn't beautiful. But it isn't plain, either. I can't describe it." He paused for a moment, considering, somewhat lost in his own thoughts now and Kíli grinned as he finally sighed again. "Her eyes, though. Kíli, her eyes... Mahal, they draw me like no other has ever done. Moonstones. They remind me of moonstones."

Kíli frowned. This suddenly didn't sound like one of Fíli's casual encounters. His brother had never spoken of a girl's eyes like jewels, not to him. To her, maybe, in hopes of tumbling her, but never to him. And it disturbed him. "You want to see her again."

Fíli nodded in defeat. "Yes, I want to see her again. And I shouldn't. She's human. And she's worth more than my life if we were to be caught. So no, much as I want to, I won't."

"She's that important?" Now Kíli was confused. Most human women were dismissed, counted as less than the men. And no Dwarf really understood it, either. Dwarf women were cherished, honored, and permitted their own lives if they wished. They could learn a craft, even not marry if that was their choice. Human women, on the other hand – they might learn to sew in order to make a little coin but they didn't live without a protector. In most cases a husband or a father.

"She's Bard's daughter."

Kíli choked. "You never do anything small, do you?" he managed to grind out. "Mahal, brother, Thorin would kill you. Bard would kill you. And then they'd kill the pieces."

"You think I don't know that?" Fíli was miserable. He wanted to see her, needed to, and didn't understand why. Fire, he thought suddenly, that fire drew him as much as her eyes, and he was suddenly certain it would burn him badly. He didn't care.

Kíli was silent for only a moment. He would do anything for Fíli, the same as his brother would do for him. "Then we have to make sure you don't get caught."

(Nialla)

Thoughts of Fíli were never far from Nialla's mind. The Dwarf had been kind to her, hadn't even really been upset that she'd bitten him. Well, that wasn't entirely true; he'd told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to learn to fight properly, and maybe he was right.

Of course, she'd been more than half blind at the time and the only thing she'd really been thinking when he grabbed her was that one of her captors had returned to abuse her again. Of course she'd fought dirty. And then the feel of him against her had gotten through her thick skull.

He wasn't like the others. His clothes were clean, he didn't smell bad, and while he was broad in the fashion of his race, it wasn't weight like the ones in the camp. He was strong, all hard lines and muscle, and even his beard and mustache were pleasant against her skin. His voice was soft and kind as he spoke to her, murmured reassurances, even went so far as to try a lullaby to try and soothe her.

It was that more than anything that had convinced her he meant no harm. No slaver was going to waste time calming his victim. He'd simply take what he wanted and be done with it. She ought to know.

She shied away from that thought almost before it was formed. And of course her mind went right back to HIM.

He'd come to see her before he left. She hadn't expected that. It just put another facet to him that she hadn't considered.

Kind, gentle, even rather attractive in his own way. The only drawback she had seen was that he had a temper to match hers, and that wasn't good. She remembered their fight in the healing house with some shame; why had she been so mean to him?

Why couldn't she get him out of her mind? It was maddening. Nothing could ever come of it. He was a Dwarf and she human. It would never work out. And yet, still he stayed in her thoughts.

She growled and rose to pace. He was arrogant, too. That swagger of his, it rubbed her the wrong way and while she thought it was attractive, in a strange way, she also wanted to smack him for it.

But none of that took away from the fact that she wanted to see him again.

She sighed heavily and went to the window. They'd finally let her out of bed and her father had immediately taken her home. And she spent a lot of time at her window, now, since he seemed afraid to let her go out for fear of losing her again.

A glint of golden hair caught her eye and she smiled. Fíli had returned to Dale.

Would he come to see her again? It wouldn't be proper, she reminded herself firmly. She was an unmarried woman and a princess in the bargain. But she still wanted to see him. Surely one visit wouldn't be amiss? And WHY was she so drawn to him?

He was back in Dale like he'd promised, but hadn't come to see her. Never mind that it wouldn't be proper and her father would refuse it on general principles, he hadn't even made an attempt. Did that mean his caress on her face had meant nothing? She was confused and it made her angry.

She sighed and let go of the anger. Maybe her father would let her walk through the market. She had to do something. She was going insane trapped in the house.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. JRR Tolkien's estate, New Line Cinema, and I'm sure a lot more people who have way more money than I do own them and I'm just playing a bit. No infringement is intended or implied. And I promise to put them back when I'm finished with them. :)**

**Author's Note: If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for romance. Hopefully this one suits!**

**Dedicated to my darling Amy. "Don't say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again."**

–

Part Six

Fíli and Kíli were shown immediately to Bard's presence and Fíli covered a start of surprise. The Man had aged, it seemed, in the space of a couple of days. He seemed much more wary than he had been and new lines drew down around his eyes and mouth.

"What news from Erebor?" he asked simply as he greeted them. He seemed honestly pleased to see them, though. "Has Thorin any thoughts on this matter?"

"He sends his respects, and a troop of Dwarves to help patrol your trade routes," Fíli replied as he grasped the Man's forearm as an equal. "And Kíli and I are at your service." He took in the extra precautions and approved. There were guards at the doors, of course, but also more in the hallways between this place and the actual residence. Bard was taking no chances, it seemed.

"I'll have to thank him properly, of course." Bard ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "Come, sit. I need someone I can trust to speak of this with and make plans."

"You don't trust your own guard?" Kíli blurted out, surprised. "Why?"

"Because Nialla wasn't taken with a caravan," was the simple response. "She was taken from the market while surrounded by my own handpicked men. Somewhere among my guard is a traitor, or perhaps this Dario himself." He shook his head. "Not one of the prisoners can give me a description of this "Dario" and that in itself makes trust difficult."

"How can we help?" Fíli offered quickly. The Man needed someone to shoulder part of the burden of protection, at least for his family. But it would have to be handled carefully; Bard was a proud Man and that pride wouldn't allow him to accept what he would see as charity. "Our troops stand ready to your orders."

"Father?" Nialla's soft voice from the doorway interrupted them and Fíli groaned silently. She had to choose NOW to speak. "I'd like to go to the market, if I may. I can't stand sitting idle here any longer." She blushed slightly when she noticed Fíli and Kíli but she didn't leave.

Kíli kicked his brother hard in the shin and Fíli hid a wince, choosing instead to glare at Kíli until he realized what the boy was trying to say. "If it would help, we could escort her," he said slowly. He was going to skin Kíli later, but for right now, if Bard agreed, he would have a little time with her. And they would be more than decently chaperoned; the market was a crowded place.

Bard regarded them steadily for a moment before nodding slowly. "I suppose that would be all right." And it would get the girl out of the house for a while. He couldn't in good conscience keep her confined, though it would certainly be the safest course. Fíli had a reputation as a fierce fighter, and Bard had had occasion to witness same. She would be safe enough. "Two hours, no more."

Nialla looked like she would protest but one glance from Bard silenced her. Still, she looked mutinous and Fíli stifled another groan. In this mood, she would be difficult at best to deal with. What was Kíli thinking, to have volunteered them for this? Oh, right. His brother was trying to help him win the girl. The problem was, he didn't WANT the girl. Or rather, he did, and couldn't have her.

Yes, he was going to murder Kíli.

Instead, he rose and gave her a bow. "When you're ready, lady," he said simply.

"One moment," she replied and scampered off to get her cloak. When she returned, he counted it a minor victory that he was able to keep from staring. Her eyes were alight, dancing with good humor now in a shift so quick it left him dizzy, and he felt that same pull as before.

Skinning was too good for his brother. Roasting over a slow fire, maybe. He'd find something suitably vile. Torture, this was going to be torture. Still, he gestured to Nialla that they would go. "But two hours only," he reminded her firmly.

She only nodded and they walked to the market, Fíli beside her and Kíli trailing behind, both watchful without appearing to be.

They wandered for a time, Nialla idly gazing at this fabric, touching that trinket, and suddenly Fíli was a bit sorry for her. She hadn't asked for any of this but she was weathering it quite well. Regretfully he called a halt. "Time to return, Lady," he reminded her quietly.

"Can't I have a moment more?" she asked softly as she considered a small carved figurine. He got a closer look and approved; it was a little wolf, the workmanship exquisite, the detail amazing. He sighed and got the attention of one of the children nearby.

"Take word to your King, if you would, that Lady Nialla will return as soon as she finishes her business here," he asked quietly. "And this is for you." He held out a silver coin.

The lad scampered off and Fíli raised a brow at her. He could have sent Kíli with the message, but he didn't think that wise the way things were here. And they were both here as her guards. No, Kíli had to stay. He needed Kíli to stay to keep him sane. She encouraged the worst sort of madness in him. He should never have let her convince him to let her stay and yet he couldn't refuse her, either. One look from those damned grey eyes and she had him wrapped around her finger.

Kíli wasn't helping and Fíli resisted a growl. Oh, he was helping, but not in a good way. He had trailed along behind, close enough for propriety's sake and yet far enough back to give some privacy. And just for a moment he thought he hated his brother. This was torture; Nialla was what he wanted, and he couldn't have her. Why couldn't Kíli accept that?

She concluded her purchase quickly, though, and he gave her marks for no longer protesting their return to her home. And when they reached the house, she laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you," she said simply.

She was touching him again. He had the sudden and admittedly insane urge to repeat his caress of her face but reason prevailed. Barely. They were in public and while it would be pleasant, it also wouldn't be proper and he'd give Bard no reason to send him away. It was too important for him to stay.

For alliance's sake, of course. Bard was the Dwarves' ally and needed to be protected.

His mind was all over the place today and she was the cause. He had to get himself under control. "My pleasure, Lady," he returned quietly. That at least was true. He had enjoyed the time spent in her company even if they hadn't spoken much beyond what was necessary for her protection.

He had enjoyed her company.

Maybe he wouldn't kill his brother just yet.


End file.
